


So Will I Comfort Thee

by rabidchild67



Category: Grimm (TV)
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, M/M, bottom monroe
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-05-12
Updated: 2012-05-12
Packaged: 2018-01-16 11:41:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,982
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1346137
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rabidchild67/pseuds/rabidchild67
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Monroe has lost three friends today; Nick offers what comfort he can. Also: sex.</p><p>Tag to the episode "Big Feet"</p>
            </blockquote>





	So Will I Comfort Thee

Nick wandered through Monroe’s house, looking for some sign of his Blutbad, though it was pretty clear he was not home. It was late, and Juliette had insisted he come over to check up on Monroe. He was contemplating leaving a note when the front door opened, banging against the wall weakly. Walking through to the front of the house, Nick took in the sight before him and nearly gasped.

Monroe stood there, soaked-through and bedraggled, swaying on his feet. Nick wondered if he’d been out all night, walking in the rain that was currently soaking the city. He rushed forward and took him by the elbow, leading him into the kitchen and sitting him down on a stool. “Look at you,” he said, laying a warm hand on Monroe’s face. He pushed the hair off his forehead, and looked into Monroe’s eyes; they were filled with such depths of sorrow, Nick didn’t know how he would be able to relieve it.

“Let’s get you out of those wet things,” he said, making a move to run upstairs to fetch his robe and a towel. At least it was a place to start.

“Don’t go, please, Nick,” Monroe slurred, his breath redolent of bourbon and fried foods, and at least Nick had an answer as to why he was so unsteady on his feet. He grabbed a kitchen towel and began to dry Monroe’s face and hair for him. 

“You want to talk about it?”

“Was at the Helvetia talkin’ with Renaldo. We’re the only ones left.”

“I’m sure that’s not true.” Nick wasn’t entirely sure what he was talking about, but he figured it had to do with the support group he’d belonged to with Larry MacKenzie. 

“They’re gone, all gone,” he went on, ignoring him. Big, fat tears welled up in his brown eyes, spilling down his cheeks. Nick took Monroe’s face in both hands and brushed them away with his thumbs. He pulled Monroe’s head forward, to rest against his shoulder, and put his arms around him, holding on tight as sobs wracked the Blutbad’s body.

“That’s right, let it go, baby. Shh, shh, I’ve got you,” he murmured. Monroe spread his knees open and Nick stepped in closer, then Monroe put his own arms around Nick. He pressed his face against Nick’s neck, snuffling, and soon Nick realized Monroe was kissing him there. He turned his head and met Monroe’s mouth with his own. They kissed for a few minutes, Monroe’s movements gaining in need and urgency as they went. Soon, he pulled away and looked at Nick. “Can we go upstairs?”

“Sure.”

Nick took his hand and led him, uncharacteristically pliant and meek, up the stairs. He had to admit that Monroe’s behavior was worrying – while he’d seen Monroe sad, as well as drunk, it was clear that the two states together were very bad for him. 

When they got to the bedroom, Nick made Monroe sit down on the bed and peeled his wet clothes off of him, starting with his shirts, then his shoes, socks and pants. He sat there, shivering, in his boxers, so Nick grabbed his bathrobe from the foot of the bed and draped it around his shoulders. He then laid him back on the bed, his head on the pillow, toed off his own shoes and got on the bed next to him, propped up on an elbow and fussing over him. He started by pushing his hair back again, then worked his fingers along Monroe’s brow, tracing the outline of this face to his cheekbone, his jaw, his chin. He leaned over and kissed him gently on the lips, then Monroe turned onto his side and curled into Nick, clutching at his shirt to pull him closer.

Nick put his arms around Monroe’s shoulders, held his head to his chest and buried his face in the man’s wet hair, closing his eyes and breathing in the scent of him, thanking whatever fates there were that Monroe hadn’t succumbed to the snake oil cure for Wesen urges Dr. Brinkerhoff had sold his friends. The thought of what might have happened filled Nick with a sudden, irrational fear for his lover, and he held him all the more tightly.

Monroe responded by pressing his body against Nick’s, and Nick could feel the other man’s erection pressing urgently against his thigh. He reached down between them and stroked Monroe through the thin fabric of his underwear. Monroe’s breath hitched and he gasped, closing his eyes and pressing his hips against Nick’s hand. Eventually, he reached around Nick and pulled at his ass, so that their groins were pressed together tightly.

“Oh, Nick,” he breathed, and they ground their erections against each other for several minutes. Nick pulled Monroe’s face in for another kiss, but the Blutbad pulled away, rolling onto his back and pulling Nick on top of him. Nick settled on top of Monroe, his body at an angle, but Monroe pulled him closer, wrapping his legs around Nick awkwardly. “I want you inside me,” he whispered against Nick’s mouth.

“What?”

“Fill me up, Nick, please,” he pleaded.

“You sure, Monroe? I mean, we’ve never…” Their lovemaking was always intense and satisfying, but never had Monroe been the bottom. It wasn’t as if they’d made a decision about this – it was just the way it was with them.

“I’m sure. Please, do it, please, I feel so empty… Nick…so empty.” He raised his head, pressed his forehead against Nick’s with his eyes closed, his tone desperate. Nick took his face in hand and pulled him close for a kiss. “Anything, baby, anything.”

Nick rolled off of Monroe and got undressed, then went into the drawer of the nightstand for a condom and the bottle of lube they kept there. He pulled Monroe’s boxers off of him and then had him roll over onto his stomach. Squeezing some lube onto his fingers, he warmed it briefly, rolling it around his hand, and then reached down to press the tip of his middle finger against Monroe’s hole.

Monroe reached around and pushed his hand away, got up on his knees and pressed his forehead against the coverlet. “No. No prep. I want to feel it, I need to _feel something_. Please!”

“Monroe, I don’t –“

“Please Nick, I trust you. Please!”

Nick took a deep breath and then opened up the condom, rolled it on over his stiff prick and then got behind Monroe on his own knees on the bed. He ran his fingers down the crack of his ass, spreading the cheeks, and lining the head of his dick up against Monroe’s hole. He pushed against the pucker, feeling the tight resistance, and almost balked, but Monroe reached back and took Nick’s dick in his hand, to guide it in. Nick concentrated and soon he’d pushed the head of his dick through the initial resistance.

“Ahh!” Monroe hissed, making Nick hesitate, but Nick felt him bear down, making the going a little easier, and he pushed himself in just a bit more. “More,” Monroe encouraged, and slowly but surely, Nick found himself buried inside his lover.

He paused, felt the sweat beginning to come from his pores. Monroe was tight around him, almost like a vice, almost too much. He bent forward, laying his chest against Monroe’s back, and just _felt it_. Monroe – the heat of him, the closeness – it was unlike anything he’d ever experienced. He could feel the familiar throbbing of his cock, but through the thin membrane of the condom, he could also feel the pulse from Monroe’s own body. He just paused for a moment to revel in the sensation, imagining that their pulses were synchronizing, becoming one.

“Oh, Nick, Nick,” Monroe sighed beneath him, and he planted kisses between Monroe’s shoulder blades. Then he rose up slightly, reached his hand down and grabbed hold of Monroe’s flagging erection. He stroked him, soon had him hard again. Monroe was leaking pre-come now, and Nick gathered some into his palm, brought it to his own face and smeared it over his mouth, licking. 

“Fuck me, fuck me, Nick,” Monroe begged, and Nick pulled out, then pushed back into his tightness, Monroe groaning as Nick pressed against his prostate on each thrust. Nick was very familiar with the sensation, and he knew what he liked himself, so he began to fuck into Monroe with earnest. Monroe arched his back then, pushing up onto his hands, now on all fours, turning his head and opening his mouth. Nick leaned forward, catching his mouth with a kiss as he continued to pump into his lover, who began to make breathy moans in his throat. Nick reached his right hand around to lightly grasp Monroe’s throat, could feel the slight quiver and rumble there as Monroe’s moans intensified. The sound went straight to his balls, and he could feel them clenching. 

"Monroe, I'm gonna..." he whispered into his ear.

"It's OK, do it."

"But..." Nick didn't want to be selfish, taking his pleasure when Monroe was so lost.

"Please," Monroe gasped.

With one final, hard thrust, he came, biting his lip through it and holding his breath until he was done. 

It was all he could do not to collapse on top of Monroe, so he began slowly to pull out of him. “No,” Monroe said, reaching back and pressing a hand against Nick’s ass, “I need you close, please.” Nick shoved his gradually softening dick back in, and they sank onto the bed together, lying on their sides for several minutes and panting from their exertions. Nick’s breath gradually slowed, but he noticed Monroe’s had not. He soon realized it was because Monroe was crying, and this time he did pull out of him, wrapped his arms around his chest and held him close. “It’s OK, baby, I’ve got you. I’ll always have you,” he whispered into Monroe’s ear, resting his chin against his shoulder as Monroe gradually calmed down.

When he was finally calm, Monroe turned to face him and snuggled into Nick’s chest. Nick reached down and stroked at Monroe’s half-hard cock, bringing him off after a few minutes, Monroe’s face buried in his neck as he came, his hot breath stuttering against him. 

They lay together, holding each other for several minutes, then Nick got up to get a warm washcloth from the bathroom, to clean them both off. He then pulled the covers back and they got under them, Nick sitting with his back against the headboard, Monroe’s head pillowed on his chest. “I’m sorry you lost your friends today,” Nick murmured, fingers carding through the still-damp curls on Monroe’s head.

“It’s just so pointless,” Monroe said meekly.

“No, it’s not. They were looking for a way to get better.”

“What’s better about denying what you are?”

“Nothing, I suppose, but some people aren’t as strong as you are, my love.”

Monroe scoffed.

“You’re the strongest and bravest person I know, Monroe. Sometimes, I find it humbling, I really do. I know it’s a constant struggle, and I think that’s what makes you strong – the striving to overcome your urges. It’s what makes you _you._ ”

“You’re only saying that because I’m a sniveling mess.”

“I’m saying that because it’s true. And because I see what you go through, and how you cope with it, and it awes me sometimes. It makes me love you even more.”

They lay together silently for a few more minutes until Monroe looked up at him and kissed him on his jaw. “Thank you.”

“For what?”

“For believing in me. I think if Larry and Dan and Alan had that, maybe they’d still be here.”

Nick pulled him in closer and buried his nose in Monroe’s hair, breathing in the scent of him, and vowing never to stop. 

\----

Thank you for your time.


End file.
